


Yuletide on the Holodeck

by strangeallure



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Eggnog, Friendship, Gen, Holodecks/Holosuites, Ice Skating, Latkes, Snow, Winter, non-denominational
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure
Summary: “It’s a twentieth-century solstice market.” B’Elanna enunciated each word clearly, but in combination they meant nothing to Harry.“A what?” He squinted, scanning the booths, many of them trimmed with fir sprigs, lights and wreaths of different sizes.In which B'Elanna programs a winter wonderland for Tom's birthday, and Harry is there for the trial run.Set in season 5, some time after 5x9 "Thirty Days".
Relationships: Background Tom Paris/B'elanna Torres, Harry Kim & B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20
Collections: Star Trek Secret Santa 2019





	Yuletide on the Holodeck

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Nicky](https://themaximummaximus.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr for the Star Trek Secret Santa Fanworks Exchange. I adore B'Elanna and Harry and hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Thanks go to Frangipani for support.
> 
> ShayneyL noted that Harry is revealed as knowing how to ice skate late in season 6, so technically, this is an AU.

“I need your help, Harry,” B’Elanna’s voice rang through Harry Kim’s quarters before his doors had even slid open all the way.

“Hello to you, too, Lieutenant Torres,” he said with faux formality. “Would you like to come in?”

“No time.” Her face was serious and she quickly took his hand to pull him out into the corridor. “Tom’s shift ends in two hours, and I need to make sure his present is ready for tomorrow.”

“The best gift ever, you mean? The one shrouded in secrecy? The one you didn’t want to tell me about?” The sarcasm in his tone was light and he tagged along willingly enough. B’Elanna tended to take things too seriously, which only made it more fun to tease her.

“Yes, Harry,” she said with a put-upon sigh. “That’s the one.” She came to a halt and turned towards him. “I know I was a little … cagey. It’s just,“ she made a frustrated noise, “with everything that’s been going on, I wanted it to be perfect.”

Harry’s face softened, and he signed for her to lead the way. Tom’s demotion and time in the brig were still fresh in their minds, so of course B’Elanna Torres, overachiever, wanted to make sure her boyfriend’s birthday was an unqualified success. Harry was sure Tom had mostly gotten over the whole affair, that she wouldn’t have had to work so hard, but that was B’Elanna for you. On the other hand, Tom did love surprises, and who wouldn’t appreciate their partner going the extra mile because she cared?

“Oh,” Harry said as they reached the holodeck. ”I don’t think you can go wrong with a holo adventure.”

“That’s what I thought,” B’Elanna replied as the doors opened. She bent down to retrieve a bundle next to the door, shoving a bulky coat and knitted scarf at Harry.

“Put this on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, slyly satisfied when she grimaced at the outmoded form of address.

She ignored him in favor of putting on her own coat and scarf. “Computer, start program. Torres 1-2-2-9.”

The electric yellow of the holo grid disappeared and around them, a glittering white landscape materialized: frosted-over trees along a winding path, a forest of snow-dappled fir trees sloping up hills in the distance, blue skies with an almost pinkish tint, dotted with clouds, and a few weightless snowflakes dancing through the air.

“This is beautiful,” Harry said, mouth hanging open as he took in his new surroundings. Voyager’s vacation programs were limited, mostly comprised of sunny beaches and blue seas with a few mountain simulations thrown in for climbing enthusiasts, but this- this _winter wonderland_ was something truly novel.

B’Elanna beamed up at him, her face unguarded like it rarely was. “I wanted something special for Tom, something new.”

Harry’s ears had caught the notes of a far-away melody, and he was pretty sure B’Elanna had more in store, so he asked, “When does the action start?”

“Just around the corner.” She tugged on his sleeve and they set off towards the music.

A gust of ice-cold wind blew into his face, and Harry pulled his coat tight. “Damn, B’Elanna. Does it have to be this cold?”

“It does.” She grinned as they stumped along. “You know how Tom is about realism.”

She had a point about Paris, but the temperature still seemed significantly lower than necessary. “I’m pretty sure this is colder than it needs to be for snow,” Harry complained. The tip of his nose and his cheeks felt like they were about to crust over with ice.

They turned the corner and before them, another surprise came into view: several wooden stalls with colorful lights and decorations arranged around a frozen pond. A few holograms in old-fashioned garb were walking around, too, talking and laughing, making the place feel picturesque yet lived-in.

“It has to be significantly below freezing for a body of water like this to turn into ice,” B’Elanna said, pointing at the smooth, oval surface of the pond with some pride.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Harry said as he rubbed his hands together. “What is all of this?”

“It’s a twentieth-century solstice market.” B’Elanna enunciated each word clearly, but in combination they meant nothing to him.

“A what?” Harry squinted, scanning the booths, many of them trimmed with fir sprigs, lights and wreaths of different sizes.

“You know how Tom is obsessed with all that old-time-Earth, end-of-millennium stuff?”

It wasn’t really a question, but Harry nodded anyway. Everyone who’d ever talked to Tom Paris for more than ten minutes was aware of his fascination with proto-atomic Western societies.

“I researched customs from that period. Our database is limited on the subject, but I found these markets, and apparently, they took place all during December – right around Tom’s birthday.”

“Perfect fit then.” Harry could sense the feeling of pride B’Elanna tried to conceal. “So what do you need me for?”

“I need your opinion,” she bumped his shoulder with hers, a little too forceful, like she always did, “and your help.”

Harry stuck an accusing finger out at her. “I knew it.” He sent an imploring glance up into the sky. “Everyone always wants things from me. No one is ever just checking in.”

“Boo-hoo.” B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “Poor little thing.” She patted his arm in mock consolation. “Horrible to have friends who value your opinion and want your input.”

“You know it.” He pursed his lips.

“The kind of friends,” she added with a glimmer in her eye, “who do you favors, too. Like when I covered your shift last month, so you could spend an extra day frolicking around on that beach planet.”

“First of all, I wasn’t frolicking. What does that even mean?” He tried to sound affronted, but couldn’t help smiling to himself. That had been a great day. Beautiful green-hued sunsets, warm water and excellent seafood. Tepala wasn’t South Carolina, of course, but it had made him feel closer to home than he had in a while. “Second of all, you hated their food.”

“Not the point,” B’Elanna shut him down, which, admittedly, was fair.

Harry decided that he had tested her patience enough and slung an arm around her shoulders. “So what can I do?”

“I mostly need a fresh set of eyes, someone to check if I can answer all questions Tom might come up with. Test the program, make sure everything’s working right.” 

A dry run, then. “I can definitely do that.” He looped his arm with hers. “Show me around.”

As they walked, Harry began to truly appreciate the level of care and detail in B’Elanna’s simulation. Each stall played its own, distinct music and was decorated in different colors with a variety of trinkets and symbols. No way the computer had done this without an inordinate amount of manual fine-tuning.

There was a pretty booth covered in white-and-blue bows and stars where they stopped to play a game called _dreidel_ , and Harry won a few gold coins that turned out to be chocolate.

“Something to get Tom’s competitive streak going, always a good choice,” he noted.

The shapes painted on the sides of the spinning tops they used in the game seemed vaguely familiar. “That’s Hebrew, right?”

“It is!” B’Elanna beamed up at him. “A lot of these solstice traditions were based in pagan and religious holidays from all over Earth, but by the twentieth century, they had blended together, so you get all kinds of cool stuff.” She huffed in what was very clearly faked annoyance. “It was a pain to program.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing Tom will eat up,” Harry assured her.

“We have to try some of the food and drink, too,” she told him. “The data on flavor profiles was spotty, so I had to make some educated guesses.”

“As long as you didn’t skimp on sugar, I’m sure he’ll love it.” Even just thinking about how Tom could eat a huge pink ball of cotton candy made Harry’s teeth hurt. 

“I thought the same thing.” B’Elanna pulled Harry towards a stall with a hand-drawn sign advertising _mulled wine_ , _hot cider_ and something called _eggnog_.

“So I know wine and I know cider, but what’s an eggnog?” Harry scratched the icy tip of his nose.

“It’s like custard, but you heat it up and drink it.”

“Sounds ominous,” Harry said even though the idea of something hot and creamy was appealing in this weather, “but I’ll try anything once.” He turned to the kindly man behind the counter. “Two cups of eggnog, please.”

The hologram handed them steaming mugs of what turned out to be a delightful drink. It had quite a bit more kick to it than Harry was used from holodeck fare, but that was more than welcome.

“It’s like a hot milkshake, but good,” Harry tried to explain as he felt the beverage warm him up from the inside.

“Yes,” B’Elanna agreed. “I like the spices in there, keeps it from being boring.”

Harry nodded in agreement as he took another large sip. “Maybe ease up on the cinnamon a little bit,” he noted, trying to find something for her to tweak. 

“Would you like some rugelach, too?” the man inside the stall asked, already putting pastries on napkins for them. Since the eggnog had worked out well for him, Harry was definitely up for more old-timey goodness.

Food and eggnog in hand, they strolled over to the next booth.

“Not bad,” Harry mumbled around his first bite of rugelach. What’s in it?”

“Damn, I forgot.” B’Elanna mouth and nose scrunched up, clearly annoyed by the minor gap in her knowledge. “Computer. What’s in this pastry?”

“Marzipan,” a disembodied voice supplied, helpful as always. “A confection made primarily of honey and ground almonds.”

So simple, yet so delicious, Harry thought. He held up his mug and the remains of his pastry. “Definitely a winning combination.”

B’Elanna didn’t reply, but the way one side of her mouth twisted up indicated how pleased she was.

They finished their eggnog as they strolled along the other stalls, and Harry asked some more questions B’Elanna answered easily. In an attempt to be helpful, he suggested toning down the snowfall pattern, so their hair and scarfs didn’t get soaked, and pointed out a Cardassian headdress on one of the holograms that was inauthentic for the time and place. All very minor, easily fixable stuff. B’Elanna had clearly done her homework. Harry would have expected no less.

Every one of the stalls offered different types of ornaments and foods, and the air was filled with the smell of warm spices and snacks. After their food and drink had warmed them up, the atmosphere felt downright cozy, even though it was still cold enough for their breaths to make white puffs in the air, another impressive detail.

It seemed like B’Elanna had programmed the holograms to explain the significance of each available item, but it was obvious she had memorized most of the information herself, jumping in whenever they started describing one of the many customs people had observed back then.

There was a witch on a broom that hid presents under her skirts, a stern-looking fellow who chased naughty children with bundles of twigs, and a parade of twelve hungry _yule lads_ and their cat.

Harry wasn’t sure how it all fit together, but as B’Elanna had explained, it was a mix of widely different traditions, so maybe coherence wasn’t the goal here.

They got some hot cider and potato pancakes – latkes, as the holographic proprietor informed them – at another stall. 

“You really went all out,” Harry said, swaying a little in B’Elanna’s direction as he pointed at the frying pan in the back of the stall, where the man prepared another batch of latkes, oil crackling in the pan as he flipped them.

She smiled, proud. “Tom lives for this stuff,” she said. “Imagine him getting hit by flying drops of fat. If he got a mild burn out of this, he’d probably be thrilled.”

Harry laughed.

“He’d probably refuse to let the Doctor treat it, just so he can use it as a conversation starter.”

“Wouldn’t be a bad story, to be honest.” There was a twinkle in B’Elanna’s eyes as she toasted him with her cider. It was hot and a lot spicier than the eggnog and it made Harry choke a little. After a few more sips, however, and in combination with the latkes, he started truly enjoying it, the sweet tartness from the apple juice a nice counterpoint to the crispy crunch of the pancakes. And the dipping sauces pushed the whole thing up another notch.

“We should tell Neelix about these pancakes,” Harry said, dipping his second latke into sour cream. “He always complains about people not eating his potato stew, but if he prepares his tubers like this, I’m sure he’ll have a mess-hall hit on his hands.”

B’Elanna tried to look skeptical, but Harry knew it was just a front. “You say that because you like anything that’s deep-fried.”

Harry shrugged and pointed a meaningful look at her empty plate. “Doesn’t everybody?”

“Maybe you have a point,” she conceded and pulled him towards the next stall. “We still have to try the mulled wine,” she said just as Harry emptied his glass of cider.

“Somehow,” he said as he picked up his mug, and for a moment, he felt unsteady on his feet, like he was about to fall, but then the wobbliness faded, “everything you have here is a winner.”

B’Elanna grinned and toasted her mug at him with so much enthusiasm that some of the wine spilled into the snow, melting it into a dark-pink puddle. “I agree,” she said and took a drink.

They lingered at the second to last stall, and a wind chime with what appeared to be three ghosts caught Harry’s eye. The ghosts looked like puppets on strings held by a fellow in a dark hat with chains wrapped around his hands and body.

“He doesn’t look too chipper,” Harry remarked as he washes down a piece of gingerbread with the remains of his mulled wine. He briefly wondered about how quickly he had gotten used to the cold: he barely felt it anymore. Instead, his whole body and even his face felt pleasantly warm.

“Oh, that’s Marley,” B'Elanna said, pointing at the guy holding the strings. “One of the few things I was familiar with _before_ I did all this research.” She inclined her head and a far-away look crossed her features. “Growing up in a Klingon household, even in a human colony, you miss out on a lot of cultural knowledge.”

“But Marley’s not Klingon, is he?” Harry shook his head, confused. The timeline didn’t work, did it? All this stuff was pre-warp, well before humanity had learned that they weren’t alone in the universe.

“Hell no,” B’Elanna snorted. “Just look at him: white, puny and wearing a _hat_.” The way she pronounced the last word made it sound like the greatest indignity any Klingon could suffer. For all Harry knew, it might have been. “I knew Marley from my history requirement at the academy: _The Cultural Impact of Capitalism_.” Much like her childhood, her time at Starfleet Academy was something B’Elanna rarely mentioned. It always gave Harry a good feeling when she did bring it up around him, and he understood it as a sign of trust.

Belatedly, something rang a bell in his mind. “Oh damn, you’re right.” He slapped B’Elanna’s shoulder, stumbling into her a little. “He’s the guy who sees ghosts and realizes exploiting workers is bad, right?”

“No, that’s Scrooge.” Harry felt himself pout; for a second he’d been sure he had figured it out. “Marley was Scrooge’s friend. The one who is sending the ghosts,” B’Elanna explained.

“But Scrooge was an evil capitalist,” Harry shouted, suddenly invested in the matter. “How come he even had friends?”

“Partners in crime, maybe?” B’Elanna shrugged, apparently losing interest. Her eyes were roaming around, settling on the pond.

“Harry,” she took his arms with both hands and bounced on her feet, “we have to go ice skating.” Her eyes were big and bright with excitement. “That’s the most important thing I wanted to try with you!”

He had no idea what she was talking about, but her enthusiasm seemed undeniable. “Ice skating? What’s that?” Again, his voice came out louder than intended.

“It’s a traditional pastime,” B’Elanna said as she steered him towards the final stall. “People used to put on shoes with blades attached to the soles and glided over the ice with them.”

Her explanation made limited sense, but Harry had to laugh anyway. “Of course you’d find a tradition with blades involved.”

“Shut up,” she said, then turned towards the woman inside the booth. “Two pairs of ice skates, please.”

“What sizes?” the hologram asked.

B’Elanna looked over at Harry, who shrugged. His clothes and shoes were replicated according to his measurements on file, and he didn’t have any of it memorized.

“I have no idea,” B’Elanna said, laughing out loud. “Just give us two pairs, I’ll have the computer adjust them to fit our feet.”

“What do you mean, my dear?” the woman asked mildly as she took two pairs of boots from the rack behind her.

“Pssshhh.” Harry put his index finger in front of his lips to shush B’Elanna. “We aren’t supposed to talk about the computer in front of the holograms,” he whispered.

“You’re right,” B’Elanna said, too loud, then repeated herself, leaning forward conspiratorially. “You’re right,” she mouthed, almost inaudible.

They sat down on a bench to put on their ice skates, and Harry pressed his palm against the metal. It was very cold and sharp. “You weren’t kidding about the blades.”

“The physical mechanics are quite fascinating, actually, speaking from a scientific standpoint,” B’Elanna said as she laced up her boots.

“I’m sure they are.” Harry didn’t really care for an impromptu lecture but was weirdly determined to find out how this worked. When he got up, he felt himself wobble, but managed to stabilize himself, so he counted it as a win.

“So what do I do now?”

“Slide,” B’Elanna said, then revised her statement: “No, sorry. Not yet. That only works once you’re on actual ice. For now, I think you can just walk.”

Harry set one foot in front of the other. He was dubious, but to his own surprise keep his balance. The semi-packed snow he was sinking into also helped, he suspected.

He waited for B’Elanna to catch up before putting one foot out on the ice. It almost slipped out from under him. “Damn,” he cursed, holding on to B’Elanna’s arm by instinct alone.

“Look at the gears at the tip of the toe,” B’Elanna said, pointing, “those are the breaks, I think.”

Harry knitted his brows together. He wasn’t sure that made sense.

For the next fifteen minutes, they were trying, and mostly failing, to work out how to move on the ice. A few minutes in, B’Elanna activated a pre-programmed figure skater, but the hologram’s movements were much too advanced to offer much guidance, and it was clear that they shouldn’t even try to aspire to her level. Instead, they were bumbling and shouting, holding on to one another, howling with delight whenever one of them managed more than a pace or two without falling.

Eventually, they managed to glide along the pond without stumbling. They weren’t fast and they weren’t graceful, but they were continuously moving and both ecstatic about the fact. And then they were about to reach the pond’s edge and realized they had no idea how to turn around or stop.

Harry tried to use the front of the blades as brakes like B’Elanna had suggested, but it didn’t really work. Or maybe it worked too well. Either way, one second, they were both upright, and the next, their bodies were wedged into a small snowdrift by the side of the pond with their legs splayed out on the ice.

“Ow,” Harry wailed and rubbed up his thigh, where a sharp pain seemed to chase along his flesh. “I almost broke my ass.”

B’Elanna stared at him for a moment, and then started giggling. Her amusement was contagious and soon both of them dissolved into laughter, throwing their heads back and shoving at each other’s shoulders. 

As the sun started setting, they calmed down again and looked up into the sky, where an almost-full moon and a beautiful rendering of the Milky Way had started to illuminate the scene. B’Elanna had really outdone herself with this simulation.

“I’m glad this happened with you, not with Tom,” she said with a grin. “I’d like to keep some dignity around my boyfriend.”

“At your service,” Harry replied with a mock salute that sent another stab of dull pain down to his hip.

Suddenly, it dawned on him why he was really here. Not to make a few minor suggestions or to quize her or because she needed practical help with the programme. No, what B’Elanna needed was reassurance. 

“You’re good together,” he said slowly. “It’s like you’re two puzzle pieces, and you’re so jagged that it was hard to see where you fit at first, but now that you’re together, it seems obvious.”

B’Elanna laughed again, but there was something like melancholy in her tone when she replied, “I’m pretty sure I’m the only one that’s jagged.” She pointed at her forehead ridges, but it wasn’t a joke. Harry realized that she had maybe never been this vulnerable with him before, and he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Tom. He’s,” she was huffing in frustration, like she couldn’t find the right words, “he’s pliable. Just fits himself around my sharp edges, most of the time. Even when we fight, I can never push him away and make it stick.”

For a moment, her eyes were wistful, far way, but then she took a handful of snow and smooshed it onto her forehead. “Like this,” she said and pointed at her head, white with snow now.

The visual was so incongruous that Harry simply had to join her in renewed laughter. Somehow, everything seemed more hilarious today. Belatedly, he realized that they were still lying half on the ice, half in the snow, that his butt and legs were freezing cold, even as his face felt warm, almost feverish.

“B’Elanna,” he asked in a moment of clarity, “are we drunk?”

She laughed, “Probably,” and wiped some snow off of her jacket and pants.

“But how?” Harry asked as he tried to stand up, slipping on the ice. “The holodeck won’t replicate active stimulants.”

B’Elanna was observing his attempts to get himself upright with an amused look. “Not with the standard settings it won’t.”

Her answer only added to his confusion. “You disabled the standard settings so you could get me drunk?”

“What? No,” B’Elanna seemed affronted, but her voice quickly pivoted to a tone that sounded smug. “I’m the Chief Engineer. I’ve disabled excessive security protocols for my own work.” Annoyingly, she managed to stand up on her first try. “I know better than that stupid computer.”

 _Excessive security protocols_. What an utterly B’Elanna Torres thing to say. Harry held out his hand to let her pull him up. “Of course you do.”

He patted himself down, wiping snow from his clothes and hair, finally aware of how much his body was chilled through from lying on the ice. Only his hip still felt warm with pain. It dawned on him: security protocols weren’t just concerned with stimulants, they also prevented injuries.

“Does that mean I could have broken my neck here?” His voice was precariously close to a shriek. “And does that mean I’ll have to ask the Doctor to treat a giant bruise on my butt?” he grumbled as he poked his thigh in morbid curiosity.

“You could always let it heal the old-fashioned way,” B’Elanna suggested, smirking, “or ask Tom.”

“Thank you for your sympathies, you maniac,” Harry replied with a smile.

“Computer, create wooden handrail around pond,” he said with a pointed look in B’Elanna’s direction. “I’m sure something to hold on to will help both of you get the hang of this.” B’Elanna nodded in agreement.

“And maybe you should adjust the security protocols to make sure Tom won’t accidentally split his head on his birthday.” B’Elanna nodded again. “I’m pretty sure he’d rather spend his time with you than with the Doctor.”

“Will do, Harry,” she said and gave him an uncharacteristic hug. “I’m sorry about your butt,” she patted him lightly on said butt, but on the uninjured side. “You’re a good friend.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Harry said warmly. “I had a lot of fun.” He gestured around. “This is amazing. All of it. The level of detail, the flavors, the landscape. Everything. Tom will love it. And when he’ll inevitably show it off to me, I’ll pretend that I've never seen it before.”

“Thanks, Harry.” B’Elanna raised her hand to wave goodbye. “I’ll update the security protocols and find a replacement for that Cardassian headdress.” She rubbed her nose. “I think I remember something about people wearing headbands with antlers attached to them.”

Harry shook his head. That sounded exactly like the kind of detail Tom would appreciate.

“Come on,” he said. “Activate the master work station. I’ll help you get this done.”

**Author's Note:**

> Like all my stories, this is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), whose goal is to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites:
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